


Breaking and Entering

by the_welsh_woman



Category: Mission: Impossible (Movies), mission impossible - Fandom
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-20
Updated: 2018-08-20
Packaged: 2019-06-30 05:21:59
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,238
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15745116
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/the_welsh_woman/pseuds/the_welsh_woman
Summary: Erica Sloane needs a holiday but the CIA thinks she needs to be babysat.





	Breaking and Entering

Relieved, Erica smiled when her ears finally popped in the car ride home.

Criss-crossing the Atlantic in a private plane sounded glamourous on paper, and hell, sometimes it was glamourous, but most of the time the dirty reality of it was anything but. It was hard, tiring and lately her head and stomach hadn’t been able to handle all of the ups and downs of air travel. She had been subsisting on paracetamol and chardonnay for weeks and now on edge, Erica was ready to go home and sleep off the filth of her job.

 

Grimy white lamp lights flashed rapidly across her face just as the car accelerated to change lanes at the mouth of the traffic circle. She closed her eyes and rolled her head away from the window until she was once again shadowed by the interior. The malicious ache that had taken up residence behind her eyes throbbed causing her to clench her teeth and suck in a soft hissing breath. Erica rubbed her temples and pressed the pads of her thumbs against her closed eyelids. That helped a bit, but not enough.

 

Grabbing her handbag from across the leather seat she pawed through it, feeling for the paper packet of blister pack tablets. She made a noise of triumph after finding it buried beneath her oversized wallet. Squeezing one tablet into her hand, Erica snagged the squat complimentary water bottle from the hard plastic holder in the door’s armrest and downed both the pill and the water in one gulp.

 

Water trickled from her mouth down onto the front of her silk blouse and with a muttered swear, she tried to dash it away with the side of her hand. She couldn’t see it, but she knew that the water would leave an unsightly stain right down her front. Erica tugged at the lapels of her suit jacket, but the cut of it was much too narrow for her to close it enough to hide the blemish.

 

She sighed once again annoyed.

 

Well what did it matter?

 

The only person who would see her from that moment until… whenever she decided to come out of hiding, was her driver and Erica was sure that a water stain on a woman’s blouse was the least of his concerns. She put her head back on the upraised rest.

 

‘Not long now, marm,’ he said some moments later  in a low voice that startled  Erica into opening her eyes.

 

She mumbled her thanks and absently started gathering her things from the seat, stuffing the bits and bobs into her handbag. Erica was just shrugging into her coat and winding the scarf about her neck when the car pulled up to the outside of her gated home.

 

Home sweet home. She needed that more than ever now.

 

Erica had bought the three storey townhouse about a decade ago when life in the American beltway had become too much to handle. London, especially this quiet area of Kensington, had appealed to her sense of solitude and it was the perfect hideaway about which only a select few people knew. Erica was confident that she could remain undisturbed there for as long as she wanted.

 

The driver unlatched his seatbelt and got out of the still running car. Cool evening air rushed in through the open door and she shivered a little. He opened her door and she took his outstretched hand allowing him to help her out onto the pavement. Erica moved to the rose entwined wrought iron gate and punched in the key code whilst the driver collected her belongings from the boot. He then followed her through the gate and up the stairs to the dark blue front door. She entered another key code into the security system outside the door and waited for the alarm to switch off. The familiar muffled beeping sounded from inside, the lights on the key pad turned green and she pulled down on the latch to let herself in. The driver waited on the stoop for further instructions.

 

‘Bring them into the foyer,’ Erica said to him removing her coat and scarf and hanging them together on one of several hooks bolted into the wall.

 

The driver wiped his feet and carried her luggage into the foyer as she had requested. Erica thanked him, tipped him generously and bid him a goodnight.  Once alone, she closed and locked the door then set the alarm. She took in a long breath and blew it out again. The house smelt unused, but clean and she was glad to have discrete, trustworthy cleaners and groundskeepers. They looked after the house well, whilst she was away.

 

She walked down the length of the narrow corridor that opened into a large kitchen. The under cupboard track lighting gave the cool clean room a warm welcoming glow so that she didn’t have to switch on any lights in order to see where she was going. Erica moved through the kitchen and leaned across the edge of the butcher’s block in the centre of the room. She laced her fingers together, stretched her back and closed her eyes, letting her thoughts sift through the slurry of mental lists she had going at all times.  She picked out her ‘welcome home’ check list and ran through it.

 

  1. Nothing in the luggage that I need right away, so they can remain unpacked for the night – check



 

Erica went to the refrigerator and pulled the handle. It came open with a sucking protest. Inside, she found several  ready-made meals in foil wrapped containers stacked neatly to one side. Bottled water and several bottles of wine lay on their sides on the middle shelf. On the bottom shelf sat a ceramic bowl with a few large peaches, a carton of blueberries and small apple. Erica ducked in and grabbed the apple. She made a noise of delight upon spying the Tim-Tams in the back and helped herself to a few. She closed the door and with her snacks, went back to the butcher’s block to think.

 

  1. Food for the next few days had been delivered and put into the refrigerator - check



 

A glance to the other side of the counter confirmed that the coffee maker stood at the ready, programmed to brew for tomorrow morning.

 

  1. Coffee – check



 

Just as she had instructed, everything was in place for her homecoming. Erica stood up and turned to leave the kitchen. With a light heart and clear conscious, she went upstairs to her bedroom where she undressed and prepared for a bath.

 

Even after a long hot shower and a thorough scrubbing, her head still remained foggy and stubbornly painful. She opened the medicine cabinet and contemplated the prescription bottles within. It hadn’t been that long ago that she’d taken a tablet and her stomach didn’t seem thrilled by the thought of consuming any more alcohol.

 

Blood sugar might be low, she thought. Haven’t eaten anything solid in a while.

 

Wrapping up in her clean fluffy dressing gown, the one with the print of cats playing with balls of twine, Erica flopped down on the edge of the bed.

 

She ate the Tim-Tams quickly and finished off the apple before looking around. She hadn’t brought up any water. Sure, she could go back into the bathroom and drink from the tap, but she knew that her internal clock was all off from travel and she didn’t want to have to get up when she inevitably woke in the night to drink from the tap when a bottle on the nightstand would be more convenient.

 

 _But that means you’ll have to go back downstairs. No one wants that,_ her internal voice complained.

 

She ignored it and groaning she pushed herself into motion, plodded bleary-eyed down the stairs, down the corridor and into the kitchen. Back in the corridor, one large bottle of water in hand, she nearly tripped over her luggage when she was distracted by the door to the lower level. It was ajar.

 

Suspicion tightened her gut.

 

Had that door always open? 

 

Erica put the bottle on the side table and moved to that door. She put her ear into the opening and listened.

 

Silence.

 

She waited.

 

A soft sound of metal on metal drifted up to her.

 

_Clang, clang._

 

_Clang, clang._

 

Erica pulled up another mental list.

 

What could be down there that would make that sound on its own?

 

She went through the check list and came up empty.

 

A finger of panic poked around in her chest.

 

_Gun._

 

_No, you’re being paranoid._

 

_The safe in the sitting room - get your gun._

 

Erica quietly moved from the door and into the sitting room adjoining the kitchen. The wall safe was behind a painting of the London skylight at night. Holding the portrait aside, she punched in the numbers, glad that the keypad made no beeping noises. She opened the safe door and retrieved her pistol. It was already loaded.

 

Back at the door to the lower level, she toed it open and walked into the dark at the top of the carpeted stairs.

 

Bare toes clutching at the thick nap to ensure her balance, Erica moved soundlessly downwards. The familiar scent of the indoor pool rose into her nostrils and she could picture what it looked like in her mind. She liked that pool. It had been one of the big features that sold her on the place and she’d spent countless hours doing lap after lap in the cool water.

 

At the bottom of the stairs she paused then moved into the small changing room that separated the pool and the adjoining gym. A tiny jangle of fear tickled in the back of her mind reminding her that she had to be alert.

 

_Clang, clang._

 

A little louder now, the noise was rhythmic and slow and she frowned. What she _thought_ was the source of the noise, didn’t seem at all possible to be occurring just on its own. Light streamed from beneath the swinging door leading to the gym and she grimaced. The noise wasn’t possible unless there was someone in there.

 

What kind of maniac breaks into a house just to work out?

 

Shouldering the door open and falling into a shooting stance she shouted, ‘Hold it!’

 

There was a man standing in there facing the mirrored wall at the far side of the room. He wore a thin sweat wet grey tee shirt, long black athletic shorts and clutched two huge barbells. His feet were bare. The face that reflected back at her through the mirror was not only amused but a bit judgmental.

 

‘You!’ she yelled with anger and surprise.

 

‘I would say something about your overall observational skills,’ he said, wholly ignoring her outrage, ‘but I’m sure you don’t need me to.’

 

‘How dare you,’ Erica spluttered. ‘How dare you come into my home!’

 

August Walker rolled his thick shoulders from front to back, not in a motion of insolence, but one borne of wearily feeling the dead weight of the iron in his hands.

 

‘Can I put these down?’ he asked. There was laughter in his voice.

 

Erica stared at him and after a moment saw him raise his brows at her in the mirror.

 

‘G’awn,’ she grumbled and watched him set the weights back on the rack.

 

A tingle of admiration burned in the back of her mind. August had been working with weights at the very end of the rack, those heavy bastards that she had never bothered to touch for fear of straining herself, but yet, here he was handling them with ease.

 

Seeing that she still had her weapon trained on him, August lifted his hands shoulders height. He then slowly turned round to face Erica. Her gut twisted again but not unpleasantly this time and she wondered if she could shoot him and dispose of his body without any fuss.

 

 _Waste of a fine specimen,_ needled the animal part of her brain _. Look at that body. Look at that—_

 

‘What are you doing here?’

 

August put his hands down and sighed.

 

‘I missed you,’ he replied not trying to hide his insincerity.

 

‘Fuck you,’ she growled and he had the nerve to grin but not reply.

 

Idly inspecting his shirt, he found a dry spot close to the hem, which he then used to mop his face. Erica did not miss the hard wet abdomen he exposed and the tease of hairy pecs.  She lowered her weapon and put a hand to her forehead. Her head throbbed miserably and she almost shot him just for being an inconvenience. August let the shirt flop against his belly and with one hand on his hip, he gestured towards her with the other.

 

‘Did you think they would let you go without someone to keep an eye on you?’

 

A mix of emotions washed through her. Couldn’t they just leave her in peace? Just for a little while?

 

‘And they thought that /you/ were the man for the job?’

 

It was almost an insult. The Hammer – watching her? Preposterous.

 

‘I volunteered.’

 

There was a boyish smile beneath that moustache and although she begrudgingly found it charming, she scowled and mocked him nonetheless.

 

‘You. You volunteered to watch /me/?’

 

You have no reason to think that highly of yourself, she left unsaid.

 

‘Yep. Me. I volunteered.’

 

A moment of silence lapsed between them. She gestured back at him with a lazy wave of her pistol.

 

‘So you broke in, came down here and what, is it leg day?’

 

And she couldn’t help herself from indulging in a slow perusal of his heavy muscled thighs straining against the shorts.

 

‘Shoulders,’ he corrected her and lifted a hand across his body to rub at the big muscle running from his neck to the apex of his wide shoulder.

 

‘How long have you been here?’

 

‘Not long. I got here just as you did.’

 

‘You mean before I did.’

 

‘Yes, of course,’ he grinned again, showing pointy eyeteeth. ‘You just didn’t notice that I’d left the door open, and I—‘

 

Erica held up a sharp dismissive hand and August knew better than to finish his sentence. He relaxed and clasped his hands behind his back. The tee shirt stretched across his chest and Erica was loath to admit that she liked it.

 

 _You could have him if you like,_ said that animal voice again _. Look at him. He’d let you._

 

Heat curled like a lazy beast in her belly and she remembered that she was stood there with gun in hand, kittycat dressing gown and messy hair. She did not cut the normally imposing and well put together figure of her professional life and she felt angry and embarrassed that August Walker, of all people, saw her at her most intimate and vulnerable. She twitched the weapon in her hand. Burial in the back garden would require too much effort she reminded herself.

 

She pulled up another mental list of men that she could call to do the job for her but put it back just as quickly.

 

‘Get dressed,’ she said instead. ‘And get out.’

 

August’s shoulders drooped and he cast a glance at the black rucksack that he’d tossed in the corner.

 

‘I’d hate to get dressed like this. Can I at least have a shower?’

 

A moment passed and she considered telling him to fuck himself and get out anyway.

 

She twitched the gun towards the adjoining bath and he smiled gratefully. Stripping off his shirt, he walked across the room to the door to the toilet and shower. On the way, August snagged his rucksack and disappeared behind the closed door.

 

Erica let out a long breath and again put a hand to her throbbing head.

 

Jesus Christ, this man was the last thing that she wanted to deal with at one-thirty in the morning.

 

She heard him turn on the squeaky taps and the sound of rushing water issued through the door. Erica closed her eyes and an image of him naked, soapy and wet rose unbidden in her mind. All of her pent up frustrations came to a head and she breathed out with unexpected pleasure.  Weak and light headed,  she put the gun down on the media table beside her where the television stood and leaned against the wall.

 

August Walker was undeniably beautiful. His body was an absolute work of art and nothing about him seemed weak or soft. When they first met, she was in awe of the effortless dominant power he exuded. He was a man very much in control of himself, both physically and emotionally and confident in his own abilities without being arrogant. Well, not too arrogant. Erica appreciated that.

 

 _Sexy, tasty, meaty,_ whispered the animal and with a sudden fervour, she stomped it down.

 

Blowing out a long whistling breath, Erica opened her eyes and caught sight of herself in the mirror opposite. The reality of her appearance shocked her and she found herself giggling.

 

Here you are, half naked, standing in a robe, had a gun in your hand and your hair looks like that?

 

With a free and easy smile on her face, she stood there for quite a long time, waiting, breathing slowly, and staring at herself. The taps finally squeaked off and August was back in the gym accompanied by a gust of steam and the strong scent of soap and shampoo. Expecting him to be dried and dressed, Erica’s mouth flopped open when she let her head loll to one side only to see him standing there in just a white towel.

 

He clutched the towel closed with one hand and ran the other hand through his hair to slick back his curls. A useless motion, she saw, because his unruly hair flopped back into his face. He looked at her for a long time, his eyes dark in the overhead lights before he spoke, jerking his head to the neatly folded stack of clothes on the bench that ran along the other wall.

 

‘I forgot my clothes.’

 

August put his toiletry bag on the television table next to her gun.

 

She watched him with disbelief. Was that a lie?

 

_He wants it. He wants you. Take him._

 

August took a half step towards her, and pointedly not towards his clothes.

 

A trickle of a noise that wasn’t quite a moan bubbled up in her throat.

 

In his damnably even voice he said,

 

‘Unless you don’t want me…’

 

In the deliberate misleading beat that he remained silent, Erica nearly gasped, _I want you_.

 

‘…to get dressed,’ he finished.

 

She eyed him greedily. August was very well put together and Erica wondered if he felt as hard and sturdy as he looked.

 

The towel did nothing much to conceal him. Where the edges did not quite meet, her eyes followed the expanse his bare thigh up to the clear outline of his heavy cock. August shifted his bulk from one foot to the other, pressed his shoulders back, and pushed out his chest.

 

Waiting for orders.

 

_Look at him. Displaying himself for you. He’s not shy. Not shy at all._

 

Erica’s slim fingers went to the tie of her dressing gown, but instead of loosening it, she tightened it and in response, August’s mouth flattened into a disappointed line. She met his eyes, saw his expression and in that moment made a decision. Without a word, she pointedly looked down at the towel and made a directional motion with her head and eyes before looking up at him again. She hoped he was every bit the clever boy that he touted himself to be because she just didn’t want to have to say it aloud.

 

August didn’t need for her to say anything. He understood. There was no flourish when he released his grip and the towel fell away in a heap. She felt something unexpected at the sight of him, something unsaid and Erica’s heart pulsed against her ribs. What was it? What was behind that look in his eyes?

 

August paced slowly towards her, as if to give her enough to time to change her mind before he was upon her. She didn’t make any moves to stop him.

 

‘Mmmm,’ he hummed luxuriously, backing her against the wall, and undoing the dressing gown.

 

He opened it, dipped his hands in and caught her about the waist. Her scent rose between them. He inhaled her and smiled. Erica bit her lip and looked away from his open admiration of her. It was too much, too soon and it made her feel impossibly needy.

 

She held her breath as he trailed elegant electric fingers up her sides and over her belly, stopping just below her breasts. He looked down at her nakedness, rumbling,

 

‘Beautiful.’

 

Erica lifted her chin and August came down for her. He kissed her gently and tentatively at first just enjoying the taste of her, before deepening it and yanking her to him making her hands fly up to steady herself against his bare shoulders.

 

Oh yes, she decided, he was just as hard as he looked. She wanted him to take control, take the power out of her hands but did she trust him enough to give it? Did she trust him to look after her?

 

August distracted her with slow open mouthed kisses from her mouth, along her arched throat and down across her shoulder. She shivered, her body responding exquisitely to his attention and she hissed and moaned when he cupped her breasts to pluck her nipples between his fingers.

 

Lifting his head and tasting her lips again, August pressed his wide palm on her belly, and slowly eased to his knees before her. Dazed, she watched him kneel and an expectant grin curled his lips. Big hands slipped up the backs of her thighs and over her bum, squeezing and massaging her intently then slid back down again. He parted her legs and lifted one to drape over his shoulder.

 

‘Dirty boy,’ Erica groaned appreciatively reaching down to grab his hair. ‘Fucking dirty, naughty, naughty… ohhhh.’

 

August didn’t wait for her to finish admonishing him. He kissed the inside of her upraised thigh and dove in to where she was the sweetest, stroking his tongue across her tender sensitive flesh. She clenched her fingers in his hair but the pain it elicited didn’t outweigh his intense pleasure. August circled his own cock with his free hand and caressed himself slowly, just enough to keep on the edge. He didn’t want to lose control too quickly, but the taste of her and the fact that Erica fucking Sloane was allowing him such access to her stunning body was mind-blowing.

 

August supported Erica with a big hand against the small of her back as he licked and suckled her slick cunt.

 

‘Pleasepleaseplease,’ she hissed breathlessly, still pulling at his curls, and August moaned hotly between her legs. Each flick of his wicked tongue send shock-waves through her, and pushed her closer and closer to where she was nearly incoherent with desire, wanting more and more.

 

And then, the heat of him was gone and she was standing on her own two feet again.

 

With his knees spread, cock standing hard and blood hot between his steel thighs, August sat back on his heels and looked up at his gorgeous shimmering woman. Realising that August was no longer touching her, Erica slowly came back to herself, opened her eyes and let her chin drop so that she could look down at him.

 

August was breathless, eyes bright and hungry, lips and face pink from arousal and his flushed cock just waited to be abused. A decadent thought hit her like a punch to the gut and before her rational mind regained control, Erica pushed the ball of her foot against the base of his cock and pressed down.

 

Hard.

 

Pleasure spiked in him and August’s reaction was immediate and violent. He gripped her calf with both hands and arched, throwing his head back releasing an ecstatic cry that slowly dissolved into a low throaty wordless growl.

 

Erica drank all of this in, greedy for his supplication. Her full lips lengthened into a satisfied smile and she lessened the pressure.

 

In response, a full body shudder rippled through him but he didn’t move.

 

‘Please,’ he croaked, head still tipped backwards, baring his vulnerable throat to his superior. ‘Please.’

 

‘Get up,’ she ordered him as she dropped her dressing gown.

 

August rose smoothly and stood before her, open and eager, broad chest heaving, looking like an ancient god freshly stepped from a marble shell.

 

‘You got something in that bag of yours?’ she asked, sliding one hand about his narrow waist.

 

‘Yes,’ he gasped, grabbing the toiletry bag and unceremoniously dumping the contents out onto the table.

 

Small items skittered noisily across the glossy table surface and fell to the floor as he groped for one of the shiny dark purple packets. Erica could see that the condoms were new. What did that say about him? Was this all planned?

 

Now having her permission, his movements were quick and steady and she watched him with heady anticipation. The slight tremor in his fingers as he sheathed himself was the only visible fissure in his confidence.

 

August grabbed her about the waist again and heaved Erica up against the wall to where she was high enough to wrap her legs about his hips. He was so strong that he held her easily with one hand and with the other guided his thick cock into her.

 

Time stuttered to a standstill and they both froze in that intoxicating moment, both holding back, both waiting for a glorious sign.

 

Erica squeezed her eyes shut, listening as a single shaky breath filled her lungs and slowly shuddered out of her again. It had been a long time, a very long time, that someone made her feel small and delicate and fragile. A long time that someone else was the metaphorical shield and she was the damsel. She both hated and loved August for making her feel that way.

 

August tipped his chin up, eyes meeting Erica’s and she cupped his scruffy beautiful face. She kissed him and wriggled, sliding down onto him with a long voluptuous moan. This young boy, with barely restrained power throbbing beneath his moist skin, broke through her carefully constructed barriers. She watched herself fall for his charm and his boyish smile and good looks.

 

She let herself shrug off his flagrant breaking and entering and rewarded him with a fuck against the wall. What else was she willing to give up?

 

August dug his fingers into her hips and she swayed against him, rhythmically, desperately, lifting herself, thrusting down again, and again pleasuring herself with his equally as enthusiastic body. He held her, face against her throat, answering her, mirroring her body language, whining softly to keep himself from climaxing until she was ready. Until she wanted him to because he would do anything for her.

 

He’d kill for her. He’d die for her.

 

He’d love her if she let him.

 

Erica turned her face into his, stroking the tip of her nose against his skin, taking the curve of his ear between her lips and teeth. He suddenly went still with a quick exhalation of air and for a moment she worried if she had hurt him. August clamped his arm about her, squeezing her much tighter than before and pulled back enough so that he could meet her gaze.

 

He saw her naked desire for him in her eyes and with a growl, he turned and splayed her out on the media table. One big hand on her breast kept her flat and the other hand on her hip held her to the edge where he plunged inside with renewed vigour. Erica arched and shouted with delight, stealing one hand down between her wet trembling thighs to rub herself. August watched her do this and grinned wolfishly. It was probably the sexiest thing he'd ever seen. 

 

‘Fuck,’ he groaned.

 

Erica clenched her teeth. She was close, so close and she fought to sit up right again, wanting to be close to him, to ease her hands across his tensing shoulders. She curled her arms about him again, body shaking as he teased and possessed her. His lips against hers curved into a smile and he licked white hot fire into her mouth setting off a riot of fireworks behind her eyes and in her belly.

 

August fit his hand about the nape of her slender neck, taken aback at how delicate and tantalising she was in his rough hands.  He could taste how bad he wanted her, how bad he wanted her to want him in return. And in that moment, he wanted everything.

 

Erica’s knees bumped up against his ribs, alternately squeezing and scrabbling for purchase on his slick flesh. He loved it. He loved her recklessness, the unabashed sounds of pleasure that she made when he rocked into her. He knew that she could feel him. She could feel him in and around her and he knew that she relished the sensations of being taken by him.

 

There was bliss being this close to him, and there was danger as well. It was the combination of those conflicting emotions that made Erica’s eyes fly open and her body snap to sudden and crushing attention to gasp his name.

 

In her voice was a question and in her eyes was amazement.

 

The molten fervour pooling inside her pulsed golden lava up into her chest and down her legs, filling every neglected pore with hunger and fire and she clutched him still afraid of losing herself. She still held onto that little piece of doubt and fear of losing control, that she wasn’t yet truly free.

 

August heard the question and kissed her, her lips, her face, her throat and her lips again whispering, ‘Yes, yes, I’m here. I've got you.’

 

He clenched her and she finally and gratefully let go. She let go of it all.

 

August held Erica for a long time after until she grew tired and wanted to go to bed. Only then did he release her. 

 

Erica slid off of the table, and with one hand on the wall to steady herself, bent to retrieve her dressing gown. She slid into it and stood for a moment staring at the floor. She was acutely aware of how new and strange her body felt in that surreal moment.  The ground seemed unstable beneath her feet and the world felt fuzzy about the edges. It was a dream. She tied the belt firmly but didn’t turn round to watch August set himself right again.

 

‘I should go,’ he said.

 

It was unconvincing.

 

‘You should stay,’ she answered.

 

A moment passed.

 

‘I assume that you know your way around the house. Come up when you’re… ready.’

 

‘I will.’

 

Erica left him there and found herself smiling contentedly as she made her way back to her bedroom where she cleaned up and went to bed.

 

The mattress beside her dipped beneath his weight some time later and she could smell that he’d had a second shower.

 

‘Good night,’ he murmured leaning in to kiss her shoulder.

 

She smiled and was at once asleep.

 

 

 


End file.
